


look for me under your bootsoles

by inkteardrops



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Stiles Dies, Hunter!Stiles, M/M, POV Stiles, Same universe, Stiles' life follows the same path as Allison's, Tragedy, dead!stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 11:21:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2505935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkteardrops/pseuds/inkteardrops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You die at seventeen in the arms of the boy you would hang the stars for and you know (oh God, you hope) that there is another universe out there where you get to spend the rest of your life with him —Sterek AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	look for me under your bootsoles

**Author's Note:**

> Essentially, Stiles' story follows that of Allison's: he is a hunter who falls in love with a werewolf (Derek), has an untimely death and grapples with the idea of his family's code. But he is still himself and Allison is still herself. Does that even make sense? Probably not. Confusing, I know.
> 
> The title is from Walt Whitman's glorious 'Leaves of Grass'.
> 
> (Cross-posted from my ffn account [alarics])

You die at seventeen in the arms of the boy you would hang the stars for and it doesn't really feel like the ending you deserve.

You are the boy with the sharp tongue and the silver-tipped arrows to match and he is the creature of the moon with the burnt out trust and charred veins. He is the monster that, historically, is supposed to be your  _prey_  but you learnt long ago that the Stilinski hunters have been nothing if not unconventional.

(Your father hasn't picked up a bow since your mother died nine years ago and you've done nothing but uphold the compassion and the mercy that she whispered to you as you learnt how to aim.

Mercy and compassion.

That is your code.

Not the nonsense your grandparents chant in revered voices like it's the law.

You shoot only to protect and to save.)

You first meet in the worst possible circumstances because your best friend- your  _brother_  has been turned into the monster under the bed you're supposed to hunt and you are not, you  _will_  not be made a murderer by your surname and your grandparents.

You first meet in the worst possible circumstances and your eyes lock and he sees you –  _sees_  you, the real you. The fact that beneath the Adderall, the searing sarcasm and the hunter's surname, you are simply a boy struggling to come to terms with the fact that you are expected to stalk and kill and  _maim_. And you see past the angry stare, tragic past and smoke stained smile and you see the guilt and the grief and the scared boy who was forced to grow up too fast.

You don't trust each other at first – why on Earth would you? You're not the first hunter he has crawled into bed with and he has drilled hatred for your kind into himself so hard that it has become a marble shell.

(Kate Argent was like his grandparents – the kind of hunter that lives for the code and the chase and to see the life fading from her victims' eyes.

He trusts Allison far less than you, because her surname commandeers a fear into the hearts of werewolves.

Allison follows the same code as you.

He still can't trust.)

You suppose that you don't trust him either because he's the monster your family history has taught you to hate but it's probably something bigger than that – something about how you're looking out for your brother and he's just not giving any answers.

One day you look at him from afar as he reaches an arm out for Scott and gives him advice on his fighting technique, his voice warm with protection and advice. Your prejudices are thrown out of the window with any scrap of belief you had left in the code you're expected to obey.

(And maybe even your heart.)

You slowly ship at the shell that encases him; slowly with displays of loyalty and determination and courage.

One night you save his life in the school pool.

The shell is shattered.

For the first time since you actually  _saw_  what was inside, you are standing opposite each other with your defences knocked down and discarded and your cracks and true colours on show.

You stand side by side under the full moon and this forms companionship, which soon turns into mutual reliance which becomes begrudging affection and then you can't get him off your mind and finally, he presses you against your kitchen counter and his breath tastes like toothpaste and home and you've never felt so content.

You suppose the rest is history.

When kisses you, it tastes like forever. When you lie next to each other it feels like the stars are aligning. You think to yourself that this could be it.

But then you die – you die saving him and the rest of your friends, your pack, your family – and oh, it hurts, it fucking hurts but not as much as the thought of everything you could've been with him.

You whisper that you love him as the life bleeds out of you.

You wonder what will happen after you die.

Your father will weep.

Scott will blame himself.

Lydia will scream your name into the night.

Allison will raise her bow in remembrance.

Derek will fall apart.

You will be buried beside your mother.

You die at seventeen in the arms of the boy you would hang the stars for and you know (oh God, you hope) that there is another universe out there where you will get to spend the rest of your life with him.


End file.
